ludacris

I guess I could elaborate on the last entry. Not the Talib Kweli part, I think that said it all, but the part about my day being less than perfect high school day. I slept in so late as in, 7:39 late and then I had to run to the bus but it stayed there for fifty years after. And I went to school and hated it. I mean, I kind of did. I just hate watching people try so hard. Not at school, just to be different or the same or something that I don't even care about. I've been trying to verbalise this for a long time and all that ever comes out is that I hate when people care but really I think I just hate that I don't. If I really cared about passing my biology quiz tomorrow, I would be studying right now. Instead I don't even know how to spell occipital lobe. Or what that does.

So Emma didn't come to school but I survived, I always do. Because I'm a survivor. Cue Destiny's Child. Whatever I hope tomorrow is perfect and Ludacris does a surprise concert for only me at school.

Something silly: I hate when something neat happens and the other party doesn't write about me in their diaryland but I never write about it. I just want to be more important to other people than they are to me. Is that bad? I need to email dj.